


Fever Dream

by ofarrowheadsandpaperclips



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23030911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofarrowheadsandpaperclips/pseuds/ofarrowheadsandpaperclips
Summary: Jaskier is the absolute worst sick person ever. Luckily, his Witcher loves him even though he whines incessantly when he's sick.Modern!AU cause that's how I roll.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 181





	Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to the Witcher fandom. It's a fluff piece only, so take it for what it is. Criticisms, critiques, and squealing are always welcome. I live for kudos and comments. <3

Geralt slid his key into the lock and felt it click open. He was finally home after a weeklong hunt, and he was ready to be in his bed with a noisy bard in his arms. However, the penthouse was abnormally dark and silent. The silver haired man’s ears perked up, listening for signs of Jaskier. Normally, the apartment would be abuzz with the sounds of music, laughter, and conversation. But Geralt could hear nothing of the kind as he set down his bags and closed the door behind him. He moved quietly through the apartment, listening intently for any sound of the singer. Geralt searched for signs of a struggle, anything out of place but found nothing that gave him pause. 

When he crossed the threshold to the bedroom, Geralt heard a soft moan from the bed. His heart jerked as he saw a mass of blankets and pillows but didn’t immediately see Jaskier. He took the final steps to the edge of the bed and sat down on the edge. 

“Jaskier?” The lump moved slightly and let out a heavy sigh and whimper. 

Geralt let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Little Lark? What’s going on?” Geralt moved some blankets and pillows until he found Jaskier’s face. The Witcher let out a soft hiss as he exposed the bard’s face. Jaskier was sweat soaked and red, his eyes puffy and his lips cracked. “Jaskier? Fuck, how long have you been like this?” He pressed a wide hand to Jaskier’s forehead and winced as he felt the heat radiating from the smaller man. 

“Geralt, stop! Your hands are so cold!” Jaskier whined, pulling away from his touch. Geralt stood, making his way to the bathroom. He searched the cabinets until he came up with the thermometer. He walked back into the bedroom and found Jaskier’s face again in the tangle of blankets. 

“Open up, Little Lark.” He pressed the thermometer under Jaskier’s tongue and pressed the button. After a few seconds, the tool beeped loudly. Geralt pulled it back and let out a small growl. 102.4. “Damnit, Jaskier. When did you start feeling bad?” 

Jaskier whined. “Last night. I thought it was just a headache. Geralt, please, I need another blanket.” Geralt let out a grunt but went to the hallway closet to get the remaining blankets that Jaskier hadn’t dragged into their bedroom.He also grabbed a new set of linens so he could change the damp sheets. He dropped the blankets and linens on the floor and reached under the mass of blankets to assess how long Jaskier had been sweating. It was obvious that Jaskier had been fevered for several hours and had soaked through the top sheet. 

“I need to change the sheets, Jaskier. Let me run you a bath.” The Witcher patted what he thought was Jaskier’s shoulder as he straightened and turned to the bathroom. 

“A nice hot bath sounds lovely!!” Jaskier called weakly after him. Geralt strode into the bathroom, kicking off his shoes as he went. He knew Jaskier would not be pleased, but a hot bath was absolutely the worst thing for him at the moment. He ran a tepid bath and went back to remove Jaskier from the bed. He wrapped the bard in his blanket as he carried him into the bathroom, sitting him down on the floor next to the tub. Geralt quickly moved back to the bedroom and changed the sheets on the bed as the tub filled. He didn’t want to be far from Jaskier when he got into the tub.

As he walked back into the bathroom, he saw Jaskier shivering under the thick blanket. He reached for the man and started pulling at the layers. Jaskier had the blanket, Geralt’s hoodie, two of Geralt’s Henleys, a pair of thick sweatpants, and two pairs of wool socks on. As Geralt removed every layer, he held the bard close to his body in an attempt to keep him from shivering. He quickly shucked his own clothes and carried Jaskier to the tub. He slid down into the cool water and Jaskier let out a hiss of discomfort as he was lowered into the tub. 

“I thought I said a hot bath!!” 

“You did, but a hot bath won’t do you any good and you know it.” Geralt muttered. He held Jaskier close to his chest as the brunette shivered violently.

“D-d-does-s-n-t-t-t m-m-mean-n-n I-I-i-I w-w-wan-n-n-t-t a c-c-cold-d-d b-b-bath-h” Jaskier was boiling hot and Geralt hushed him as Jaskier buried his face in his lover’s neck. 

“I know it’s uncomfortable, but we have to get your fever down.” He burred low in his chest in an effort to calm the Bard. “I won’t make you stay long.” Jaskier tried to protest again but Geralt just hushed him again. He held Jaskier close, feeling his shivers tear through the smaller man’s body. Geralt hummed a wordless tune as he held Jaskier in the cool water. After a short while, he felt a small decrease in Jaskier’s body temperature and decided that it was probably enough to move him back to the bed. He made quick work of removing Jaskier from the tub and drying him off. Geralt carried him back to the bed and gently laid him, still wrapped in a towel, on the fresh sheets. Jaskier let out a small squeak as Geralt released him. Geralt pulled a pair of sweatpants on before reaching for the stack of clothes he pulled out for Jaskier. The bard’s teeth were chattering as Geralt sat down on the bed and reached for Jaskier. 

“I have some clean clothes for you, come here.” 

Jaskier whimpered as he was pulled close to Geralt. 

“Jask, if you would help me, this would go much faster and we can get back under the covers.” Geralt slipped another one of his hoodies over Jaskier’s head, reaching into the sleeves to find Jaskier’s hands, he pulled them through and Jaskier leaned forward to rest his head against Geralt’s chest, letting out a shaky breath. 

“You’re trying to kill me. Got tired of me and now you’re going to let me die from fever.” Jaskier was always dramatic when he was sick. Geralt let out a heavy sigh and wrapped his arms around the still shivering bard.

“Lark, lets get pants on and then we can be done.” Jaskier let out a loud whine as he moved to let Geralt put the clean sweats he had grabbed from the dresser on him. Geralt was just glad to be done with the process. Whiny Bards were difficult to manage at the best of times, let alone when they’re down with a fever. Geralt laid Jaskier down against the pile of pillows that Jaskier insisted they needed for their bed. The Witcher quickly covered Jaskier in every blanket he had, weighing him down significantly. Geralt pulled on a loose t-shirt and slid under the covers with Jaskier. He pulled the slightly smaller man close to his chest, tucking himunder his chin. He felt Jaskier’s fingers scrabble against his chest as Geralt tucked the blankets around them. 

“I’ve got you, Little Lark. Just relax.”

The chills still made Jaskier quiver under the blankets and Geralt rubbed a warm hand along his spine. After a few moments, Jaskier stopped shivering and relaxed against Geralt’s chest. 

“I sort of hate you for that bath.” Jaskier let out a low growl. He pinched Geralt’s side without any real heat. 

Geralt chuckled. “I know. You can thank me later.” The silver haired man continued to rub gentle circles along Jaskier’s spine. The bard snuggled impossibly closer to Geralt’s chest, the heat from his fever radiating off his body. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

Jaskier shrugged halfheartedly. “It wouldn’t have made any difference. You were already on your way home. Thought it would be over by now.” 

Geralt kissed the crown of Jaskier’s head. “Oh well. I’m here now.” 

He found himself humming one of Jaskier’s songs as the heat from Jaskier made the Witcher’s skin damp. Geralt held Jaskier close as his breathing deepened into a deep sleep. 

A couple of hours later, Geralt woke, covered in sweat. Jaskier was still breathing heavily in his arms but his fever had not come down. Geralt untangled himself from Jaskier’s arms and climbed out of the bed. Jaskier let out a whimper, one hand reaching from under the covers for Geralt. 

“Hush little one, I’ll be back soon.” Geralt kissed the bard’s forehead and draped a few more blankets over the man. Geralt padded into the kitchen and set about making soup for his songbird. The last time Jaskier had been sick, Geralt had made a giant pot of soup and frozen the leftovers. It wasn’t uncommon for the singer to be sick so Geralt liked to be prepared. He pulled a container from the freezer and emptied it into a sauce pan on the stove. As the soup warmed, he pulled a tincture from the cabinet and went to administer it to Jaskier. 

“Lark, come on, you need to take this.” Geralt held the dropper out to Jaskier, waiting for him to open his mouth. Jaskier made a terrible face in response. 

“Geralt, that is the worst stuff in existence. I hate it!” The singer whined as he hid his mouth in the blankets. 

Geralt sighed loudly. “Yes, I know Jask, but you are the absolute worst sick person ever. Please take it so you can feel better.” He gave Jaskier a pitiful look. “Please Jask, for me?” 

Jaskier let out a huge sigh but opened his mouth for the tincture. He gagged slightly as he swallowed. “The absolute nastiest stuff ever. I bet it’s worse than your Cat.” 

Geralt smiled, “I sincerely doubt that.” He put the lid back on the tincture and felt Jaskiers’ forehead. He was still hot but it didn’t feel quite as high. “I have some soup for you on the stove. Do you want to stay here or do you want to move to the couch?” 

Jaskier shrugged in his nest of blankets. “Seems silly to move now that you have me all snuggled in here. Will you stay with me?” A slightly sweaty hand reached for Geralt from under the blankets. The Witcher caught it and kissed Jaskier’s knuckles. 

“Of course. Let me get your soup and I will be back.” 

Jaskier gave him a weak smile as he walked out of the room. He closed his eyes, pulling the blankets up under his chin. After what felt like seconds, but was actually several minutes later, Jaskier felt the bed jostle. Geralt was climbing into bed with him, a bowl of soup and a book on the nightstand beside their bed. The Witcher was gently pulling Jaskier into a sitting position, arranging him to lean against Geralt's chest between his legs, tucking the blankets around them. Once Geralt felt Jaskier was in the proper position, he handed the bowl of soup to the singer who took it gratefully. Despite Jaskier’s dislike of the tinctures Geralt made, he was rather fond of Geralt’s soup. Jaskier inhaled the steam from the bowl as Geralt leaned back against the headboard and reached for the book. He opened the worn copy, the pages soft and fragrant with age, to the first page. Jaskier spooned the first of the soup into his mouth as Geralt’s fingers found their way into his sweat damp hair. 

Geralt spoke the first line of the book, his voice deep in his chest. He knew the story almost by heart, but he still read it every time Jaskier got sick.   
“This is my favorite book in the entire world, though I have never read it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can anyone tell me the title of the book Geralt reads to Jaskier?


End file.
